The Words and the Rose
by RedRum1122
Summary: Jessie was only fourteen when the Van de Linde Gang found her and now they've taught her everything she knows. Shes a young woman surviving in a man's world, trying to navigate as best she can.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

I don't remember much about my parents or time before the Van de Linde Gang, I must have been around 14 years old when they found me. My parents had been ranchers, before the alcohol took my father on a less glamorous path. I remember my mother; her rosy cheeks, cackling laugh and fierce mean streak when she drank too much brandy. But I can't see my father's face anymore. I remember the fear of him arriving home, wondering what he was going to do when the whiskey had hold of him. Usually my mother would need my help tending to her wounds after he had beaten her or she would be forced to take me into town and wait while she helped my father pay off his debts by spending time with strange men. That went on for a long time, until one day he couldn't run from his money troubles and they came to our house. I remember the screaming, the sound of crockery breaking, furniture being overturned and my father begging for his own life. He had no fight in him, I saw him as a coward from the start. My mother was the one who fought until the end, telling me to run to the spot in the house no one would ever be able to find me, even if they were looking. I can still hear the shotgun going off and the thud of my father's body hitting the floor whenever I close my eyes. They beat my mother for what felt like a lifetime, her protests and cries getting quieter each time until there was silence. When the men left, I stayed hidden until I could be sure it was safe. Daylight found its way through the holes in the curtains, eventually disappearing leaving the house in darkness. When I crawled out of my hiding spot, the first thing I remember is the blood, it was everywhere. There was an inescapable maze of body parts, hair and dark red blood scattered across the floorboards, soaking into the wood. I couldn't get to the front door of the house without walking across the pools of blood that had settled around what remained of my mother. So I sat on a chair, pulled my knees to my chest and cried until they found me.

The door opened ever so quietly, dragging across the floorboards where it had been kicked off its hinges. A voice yelled, "Hello, hello? We're not here to...oh Jesus Christ. Guys, come look at this." My eyes widen as I look up, feeling utter panic that the men had come back to finish me off. My face felt sore and eyes puffy from hours of crying and my nightdress was stained with blood. "Are you hurt young lady? Are these your parents?" the older man gently lifted me up, patting me down for any injuries. He stood me on the chair and placed a loose strand of hair behind my ears, repeating the same questions again. "We aren't here to hurt you...we saw lots of blood outside, heard crying and wanted to check everything was okay. What's your name?" I looked up at him, unsure if he could be trusted as two more tall men entered the room, with a young man no older than twenty years old following him. "Jesus Christ" he cried out, looking around at the chaos inside the house, stepping over what was left of my father's lifeless body. "Arthur, not now! Can't you see we have a confused young lady here. We need to get her out of here." Facing me, the older man smiles, I notice how brown his eyes are and how friendly he seems. "My name is Hosea, what is yours?" I try to speak, but no words leave my mouth. A tear falls down my cheek and I wrap my arms around him and squeeze as tightly as I can. He picks me up, one arm stroking my back reassuringly. As he leads me out of the house, he shouts back to Arthur, "Find her a change of clothes, she can't stay as she is. Pack her a bag, and take the food and anything else you can use." He leads me out to a large wagon waiting on the road.

"No no no Hosea, what are you doing? We can't...this is not part of the plan." I looked up to see a large man holding the reins of the wagon. His hair was as black as oil and styled with pomade, with a fantastic moustache covering his top lip. He was dressed immaculately, with a red silk tie around his neck and a thick grey woolen coat. I buried my head into Hosea's neck, there was no way I was going back inside that house. His grasp tightened and he began rocking me as my mother had done when I was a baby, "Ssshhhh...I'm not leaving her here Dutch. Go inside for yourself and see why. She's coming with us. We'll work it out later." He stared at Dutch defiantly, "Arthur is inside looking through the house. He won't be a minute. Everyone else is dead." Dutch sighed, knowing that this was a battle he wouldn't win, "She's your responsibility, Hosea. I just about coped with Arthur, I have no clue about teenage girls. We just got John too. If you had your way, we'd be opening an orphanage for the unwanted and neglected youth of the country." They both laughed, as Hosea lifted me onto the back of the wagon, into the arms of a lady who I soon learnt was called Bessie. Arthur appeared with a bag, attempting to climb up into the wagon when he was abruptly stopped by Bessie. "She needs to change Arthur. Get in another wagon, give me the bag. What's your name child?" she paused, waiting for me to answer. "Jessie...Jessie Tyler, M'am." I looked up to see if she approved, scared that if I said something wrong, I would be left behind to fend for myself. "That's an awful pretty name. Here change your clothes, we'll get you cleaned up in no time. You come to me or Hosea if you need anything, alright?" She smiled at me and she stroked my cheek. I eventually fell asleep in her lap, desperately trying to leave the demise of my mother and father behind me.

We travelled for three more days, before stopping at an abandoned ranch near Little Creek River. I kept to myself, only speaking when spoken to, not wanting to bring attention to myself. I had met another boy called John, maybe a year younger than me, although he didn't act it. Apparently they had saved him from being killed by lawmen. He must have done something wrong to get that type of heat on him so young, but he promised he would look after me and see that nothing bad would happen to me again. We spent a lot of time together and were soon inseperable. He introduced me to a lot of new things, like whiskey and beer and we sure had fun exploring around camp. I taught him to read and helped him when he struggled with his horse. Eventually, I realised I had a family again and life was good.


	2. Chapter 2: Journal Entry 1

Six years had passed, and we had moved around a few times, always taking advantage of the opportunities that the local area had offered us. We stayed quiet in some places, as other gangs had already made a name for themselves, but we were now settled somewhere in Montana, after robbing our first bank a couple of months back. John had grown up together and had become firm friends and drinking buddies. He had kept his word about looking after me and we were somewhat inseparable.

The whole gang had taken me in and shown me how to live off the land and fend for myself. I had brought my talent for horses with me, thankful for the years I spent watching my father before he turned to the bottle. I kept house within the camp under a watchful eye of Miss Grimshaw and learnt how to cook. Dutch had turned out to have mastered the knack of raising a tearaway teenage girl, despite his initial reluctance. He spent hours with me, reading and teaching me everything he believed was important for a young woman to know about the world. I had even managed to pick up some books in each nearby town and learn a new foreign language.

In return, I would partake in his elaborate schemes, finding out key information and often posing as an innocent young woman to coax men into telling me their secrets. I had no qualms in using my female 'talent' to gather everything needed to find the next big job. Both Dutch and Hosea had blessed me with charisma and as a result, deception and manipulation became second nature to me on these jaunts. I could find out the best places to rob or flush out any rick folk passing through town who may be vulnerable to a robbin'.

Hosea had been the one to raise me with kindness, taking the time with both John and I to impart his wisdom for when he 'wasn't around'. He had been the first man to show me compassion and sensitivity and I loved him for it. When I was eighteen, I decided to take Hosea's surname as a gift to him. Arthur told me stories about a woman Hosea had loved called Bessie and how he had left when Arthur was around 15 years old to try and go straight. He was gone for around a year before she passed and returned to Dutch and the others. I wrote him a letter, explaining I would be forever grateful to him for giving me some resemblance of a family. It was the only time I had ever seen him get emotional in front of others so openly.

Although Dutch always insisted I help out in the various jobs he planned, Hosea still hated me taking part in anything that put me in danger, as did Arthur. We had grown close as Hosea always put him on what he so eloquently called ' babysittin' duty'. He was usually the one who came to my rescue when situation went awry, often resulting in a scuffle or worse. Arthur never complained about the inconvenience of having to ensure I was okay all the time on top of his other responsibilities, but it had made him extremely protective over me and my wellbeing, something that Hosea welcomed.

In between Hosea's long and arduous fishing lessons, Arthur had been the one to teach me how to shoot and hunt. I had spent a lot of time in his company, so he confided in me more than others. I had always wanted him to see me as a woman, rather than the innocent little girl he once found in a cabin. He hated me flirting with other men and often I would find myself looking over to him sitting at the bar from across the saloon when men were ogling me, his eyes burning holes into mine. We had chemistry, but it would often over spill and result in tempestuous arguments. He never acted on whatever feelings he may have had for me, but we knew there could be something there if we both wanted there to be.

I knew he had a son with some waitress up North and that every so often he would disappear for a few days to check in on them. When he was younger, he had also had a relationship with a girl called Mary on and off for a couple of years. Even though they were sweethearts, she was never any good for him and soon enough she had left him high and dry. Since she had left, he had been even more possessive over me and miserable during our outings, making it near impossible for me to do my job. It was only a matter of time until something happened…

 _ **Apologies for the time its taken me to write this chapter, its taken me a long time to refine as writing is still something I am practicing. I hope you like it!**_


	3. Chapter 3: A Changing Future

"What you want me to say Jessie? I'll just stay here, keep robbin' and killin' and keeping Dutch and you happy?" He got up and walked away from me throwing the nearly empty bottle of whiskey into the nearby fire. He made his way back to his wagon and was sorting through things around the back, mindlessly moving around boxes to seem busy. "I ain't asking you to do nothing Arthur, I'm simply asking if you could be happy if you left? Would you be happy working a simple job for shit pay, cos God knows you ain't about to take a penny off her father!" I slammed my hand down on the wagon, attempting to get him to look at me. I perched on the end of the wagon, resting my hands either side of me to steady myself. He paused and let out a loud huff and looked me, his face tightening. "What you suppose I do then Jessie? Stay here with you? You think I'd make you happy? What can I give you? You don't know what you want, you can't, you're still a kid, if you did you'd be long gone!" I looked at him angrily, whenever we had these arguments he knew bringing up my age would wind me up, so he was doing it on purpose to get a reaction out of me. "Where do you suppose I go, Arthur? You know where I came from, how you found me." I shook my head, looking down at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with him. "The only thing I want is you to be happy. I'm not going nowhere, I choose to stay here because you are all my family and like it or not, I love you all and would do anything for any of you. You don't have to stay for me, but if you did that would make me happy. And as for what you can give me? I guess that's the difference in her love and mine. I ain't ever asked you for anything. But what do I know, I'm just a kid, right?" I shrugged and raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for a response.

He stood in front of me in silence, in shock of my unexpected response. "I'm sorry, Jess. I didn't mean..." his voice trailed off as he leant towards me. I ran my fingers through his hair, bringing my hand to his cheek, gently rubbing his stubble with my thumb. "It wouldn't be the same without you Morgan." He smiled, I had caught him off guard, but he hadn't moved away from me. We stayed close for a second, before he broke off, suddenly coming back to reality. "I gotta go, I'm meeting Mary." He gently kissed my forehead as my hands ran down his chest, coming to a stop in my lap. "Be safe, Arthur," I called after him. I knew I had feelings for him pretty early on, John had even teased me over it. But the idea of him losing who he truly was because some woman didn't think it was good enough for her had me mad as hell. I sat on the back of the wagon for a while, trying to digest what had happened between Arthur and I. Was I overthinking what he said? I shook my head, trying to get rid of the thoughts that where overtaking my mind. What did he want to give me? Would he stay simply for me? We were friends and sure, there was chemistry but we had never acted on it.

"That looked like fun" John laughed as he walked towards me, jumping up to sit aside me in the wagon. "He drives me crazy. Mary is no good for him." John nudges into me playfully, "No one will be good enough for him if you had your way, woman." I raise my eyebrows at him, not sure if he's being serious or trying to wind me up, "I need a drink" I reply, as I jump off the wagon. Sean appears from around the main camp holding two bottles of whiskey above his head. "A stór, i found you! Where you two been hiding?" Sean yelled, as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and held the bottles up to John, resting his head on my right shoulder. "You answered my prayers, MacGuire." John takes the bottles as Sean lifts me up and spins me round. We make our way to the fire, putting the hardships of the day behind us. Now it was time to drink, sing and be merry.

We eventually found our way into town and into the local saloon, singing along with the piano and swigging from bottle after bottle of cheap beer. We had found a booth and were playing cards when Arthur suddenly approached us, forcing his fists down on the table. "Arthur, that's one way to make an entrance my friend, sit down and join us!" Sean beckoned him to sit next to him. "Go home. All of you. Now!" He spat threw this clenched jaw. He was obviously drunk and angrier than I had seen him in a long time. "Arthur, there's no need to…" John tried reasoning with him but was cut off when Arthur suddenly grabbed his collar and dragged him to the front door of the saloon, John desperately trying to find his footing in his drunken state. Arthur threw him to the ground, Sean following him to help John to his feet. "Arthur! What the hell do you think you're doing?" I yelled over his shoulder. He turned and grabbed me, forcing my back against the wall. "Go home Jessie, I don't want to have to tell you again." The three of us scrambled away from the saloon, knowing that it would be more unnecessary confrontation if we had stayed and made our way back to camp, leaving Arthur to continue drowning in whatever sorrows he had that evening.

"What was last night about, at the saloon? You were crazy." I look him directly in the eyes and wait for his answer. "This way," he murmurs, grabbing my forearm and pulling me into the woods, pushing me against the giant oak tree behind the main cabin in camp. "What is wrong with you? Everything I say or do, you have to comment on. Arthur, you aren't in charge of me." He is pacing frantically in front of me, trying to calm himself down. He comes to a stop in directly in front of me, and rests his hand on the tree above my head, closing in on me. He doesn't take his eyes off me and I don't know whether to be scared or excited. "I was gonna leave Jessie. I had a plan with Mary. I was packed, train tickets bought. Hell, I even got to the station." I looked at him bemused. He had never told me he was that close to leaving. "Were you even gonna say goodbye, or just leave like a coward? That's what we mean to you, what I mean to you?" Arthur laughs at me, looking more frustrated than ever. He brings his face close to mine pinning me to the tree and I can feel his breath on me, my whole body tenses. "You don't get it, do you? She got on the train and I couldn't. I couldn't damn well leave you. I tried, with Mary I tried. But she would never love me for who I am. She'll always expect me to change, be somebody else. But you, you've never wanted me to be anyone but who I am." He looks at me longingly, begging me for a response. He's never been that upfront about the way he feels, I've suspected it for a while and I have flirted and played along with it, but I thought he was simply joking around. "Arthur...I don't know what to say. You scared me last night." He looks at me disapprovingly, I could tell it wasn't the answer he was hoping for. "Just forget it." He walks off, refusing to turn around when I beckon after him. I slide down the tree, not knowing how to digest what he's just said to me.

I sit feeling sorry for myself for some time until I am interrupted by John sliding himself down beside me, almost sitting on my lap. "John!" I cry out and he steadies himself and sits in a pile next to me, reeking of stale beer and whiskey. "He finally told you then!" John says with a playful look on his face. "Am I gonna have to compete for your attention now? Who am I gonna go hunting, drinking and robbing with if you're all loved up with Morgan?" He winked at me and put his arm around me. "You're saying everyone knew? Now I really do look like a fool." I rested my head on him as I let out a loud sigh. John was the closest thing I had to a brother, and he had never let up on his promise to look after me. "Nah, only me and maybe Sean. We're always around ya, so we notice these things more. He would always be checking in on you and looking at you. First I thought it was me he wanted..." He laughed as I jabbed him in the ribs. He got to his feet and held his hand out for me. "He's not one to talk about feelings, Jessie. Come on, no use you sitting here all day looking pretty, lets go hunt."

 **A/N: "A stór" is Gaelic for "my treasure". Its a term of endearment.**


	4. Chapter 4: The Hunt

John and Jessie returned after seven hours of hunting. Their haul was enormous, too much for camp. Pearson unloaded a deer, three turkeys and some rabbit and immediately begun preparing a feast. Jessie slung him a satchel of vegetables she had found out in the wilderness. The gang certainly wouldn't be going hungry for some time. There was still some light in the day, and Jessie knew if she could get the leftover meat to the butcher in Strawberry before nightfall, there would be another ten dollars or so in it for her.

Looking around, it was obvious John was finished for the day, he was already swigging whiskey from a bottle and sitting around the fireplace with Javier, Charles and Uncle. Jessie reluctantly walked over to Arthur, hoping for a welcoming reception. He looked coldly at her, screwing his face up and loudly sighing. "What?" Jessie smiled forcefully, not playing his game. "I need to get the rest of the meat to the butcher before nightfall. Will you come with me? Everyone else is either drunk or busy." He shakes his head, laughing to himself. "So I'm your last resort?" He gets to his feet and puts his hands on his hips, looking straight through her. "You know what Arthur, don't worry. I thought maybe we could be adults about this. But obviously not. I can go alone." she stormed off and jumped up onto her horse, speeding away before he could say another word. 

Jessie arrived at the butcher in good time, just before sunset. It would be too risky to ride back alone tonight, women were usually not afforded the same luxury of safe passage on the back roads, so she opted to stay in the hotel using some of the money made from the sold meat. She rented a room and decided a bath would be the best way to wash the day's sweat and dirt off her body. Lowering herself into the warm water, each of her aching muscles cried out in pain. Its funny how you don't notice the toll this lifestyle takes on your body, until you take a moment to stop and relax. Riding horseback and sleeping on a small bedroll on the ground each night leaves a long list of aches and pains. Sleeping in a warm bed would be a luxury she would not forget anytime soon.

Jessie was also grateful to escape from the drama in camp. Her recent fighting with Arthur had caused her a lot of grief and anguish. She hated the feeling of treading on eggshells around him and hadn't enjoyed watching him drink so much since Mary threatened to leave. Never in a thousand years did she think he would get so close to leaving his family behind, for him to throw it so carelessly in her face the way he did was upsetting to say the least. But the announcement of his feelings after all the fighting, drinking and aggression had left her confused, not knowing what to make of his declaration of feelings. She knew she wasn't ready for it, she had never had a man before and she was sure as hell this wasn't the way she wanted to start any relationship. She knew Arthur would be back at camp waiting for her return, or he would be in town looking for her as it was dark. Strawberry was a relatively small town, so she wouldn't be difficult to find.

Laying further down in the tub, Jessie relaxed into the water, trying desperately to turn the voice in her head off, taking a steady exhale until there was no more air in my lungs. After what felt like a lifetime, she got out of the bath, wrapping a towel around her soapy body. As she dried herself, she took note of the new bruises and cuts she had inherited from the days hunting.

She dressed and exited the bathing room, making her way to the smallest room at the back of the hotel. She was humming a tune to herself as she turned the corridor, spotting Arthur standing there, leaning against the door of her room, his hat covering the front of his face. There was no getting out of this confrontation. She walked slowly towards him, letting out a disapproving sigh and quietly saying, "It's a good thing you're an outlaw rather than a lawman, we'd all be trouble with your skills in finding people who don't want to be found." She came to a stop in front of him and smiled, as he looked up and rubbed his face roughly with both hands. "Were you asleep Arthur?" I lean into him as he stands up straight, moving him to one side so I could unlock my door. "Why are you not back at camp?" He finally mutters under his breath, exhaustedly. "Its dark, I'm not so stupid that I would ride in the dark, I do listen when you guys talk to me y'know. And you must know I've rented this room, otherwise you wouldn't be waiting outside it, unless you make a habit of waiting outside strangers' rooms?" She walked into the room, throwing her coat and satchel onto the chair, leaving the door open for Arthur to enter if he so wished. Instead, he stood in the doorway, waiting for an invitation. "Arthur, you're letting the heat out the room, come in." He takes a calculated step forward and shuts the door behind him. "Thank you, Jessie." He manages a half smile but keeps his gaze to the floor. "What's wrong with you Arthur? You're waiting at my door, but you have nothing to say? You're confusing me so much." She waited patiently for a response, but instead he sat down heavily on the chair, not saying a word. His silence was maddening, "First you tell me I couldn't possibly know what I want because I am a child, then you tell me you stayed for me? Then you expect me to fall at your feet because you're finally ready to tell me how you feel? And now you're following me into town after calling yourself my last resort and not speaking?"

He stirs, taking the hat off his head and placing it on his lap, slowly shaking his head. "I don't want to fight, Jessie. I just needed to know you were safe. I'm an idiot, a tired, slightly drunk idiot who followed a girl into town with this whole speech ready. But now I've had too much bourbon and I am tired and I can't remember a god damn word of what I was going to say." He shifted in his seat, obviously trying to get himself comfortable. "Arthur, sleep in the bed. It makes no sense for a perfectly good bed to go to waste." Jessie got into her side of the bed and pulled the covers up to her chest, relishing the feeling of fresh sheets and a mattress under my body. She had no interest in fighting either, she loved Arthur, in what capacity she did not know yet. But she knew she had always found him attractive, always felt safe next to him, always wanted him close to her.

Without saying a word, Arthur undressed and slid onto the bed next to her. Jessie turned to him, their faces so close together they could feel each other's breath. He slowly opened his eyes in his drunken haze, the edges of his mouth rising to form some semblance of a smile. Instinctively, Jessie put her hand to his face, "Give me time Arthur. I need time where your ex hasn't just skipped town and made you so angry. The fighting needs to stop, you need to know I am not going anywhere. This is my family. But I need you to calm down and stop drinking so much. Mary has gone, you need to deal with that and whatever else has got you so mad. I need to find my place in this gang, find out who I am and step out of the shadow of all you guys. You're all so suffocating sometimes." He grasped her hand and held it against his face, tenderly kissing it and meeting her gaze. "You don't need to make a name for yourself, this business ain't one where that gets you anything but the rope." He lays her hand gently onto the bed and closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep almost instantly. Jessie turns over and closes her eyes, trying to relax but finding herself distracted by Arthurs gently breathing and presence so close to her.


End file.
